


the love to unfold

by smithens



Series: good love [3]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: 5 Times, Epistolary, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Phone Calls & Telephones, Through the Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithens/pseuds/smithens
Summary: Five New Year's kisses.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Series: good love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146188
Comments: 25
Kudos: 66





	the love to unfold

**Author's Note:**

> > Shine with all the untold  
> Hold the light given unto you  
> Find the love to unfold  
> In this broken world we choose
> 
> [Vienna Teng, "Shine"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bah_1kJySDM)

_December 31, 1927_

_...instead I will resign myself to a night of drink, merriment and watching other people enjoy what I cannot have. But that suits me just fine, as it has for many years now. At least this is what I shall tell myself (as I have for many years now). Well, I will have you know that though I do not expect to be kissing anybody when the clock strikes midnight (but maybe this will please you in a way?) I will be thinking of the last time I did kiss somebody, an occasion at which you were present._

_I can say with utmost certainty that 1927 was the best year I have had in a very long time. Or, the last half was at least. The first part of it seems very far away and I can hardly remember it to be honest with you. I suppose not much has changed materially, but my whole life is very different now than it was this time last year. You know why._

_I hope you will agree with me when I say that I would like very much to make 1928 even better, with you by my side in spirit if not in person._

_Yours very faithfully,_

_Barrow_

_(XXX)_

* * *

Curled up in each other's arms on two single beds pushed together, too-starched sheets tangled over and between their legs, warm and happy and _satisfied,_ even in this lusterless hotel room with the glare of the lamp just beyond the bed and the noise of London on a holiday not far beyond the window, he can't _not_ be drowsy…

"We've still got a minute left, love."

"Wake me if I fall asleep, then."

"In the next thirty seconds?" Richard laughs; he nuzzles his cheek, and a pleasant tingling fills him up all over again, from his forehead to his crown all down his spine. "Will you?"

"Maybe," Thomas mumbles. "Was on a train for a while, you know."

Not to mention all that's happened since.

"I do know," he replies, "and I'm very grateful, I can assure you."

Thomas tries to shut his eyes but Richard pokes him. "You'll have to get out of bed if we want to have the champagne."

"We can have it with breakfast."

Richard laughs again. "Darling…"

"Don't you _darling_ me… how many seconds left?"

"Fourteen, looks like."

That's not so many to stay awake for…

This time when he closes his eyes he gets to keep them that way—right up until the moment when Richard's fingers are in his hair and his lips are on his and then a little while after, too, and by the time he opens them again he's overwhelmed by the taste of him on his tongue, by the leftover sparkling in his lips, by the thrill in his chest.

"Happy new year," murmurs Richard. "Happy 1929."

1929…

"Has a nice ring to it."

"Does, doesn't it… shall we sleep, then?"

"Unless you have a better idea." He raises his eyebrows, and now it's Thomas's turn to laugh. "I could stay awake a _little_ longer," he adds, trailing his fingers up from Richard's hip along his waist, his ribcage, around his back to his shoulder blade, "as long as you don't make me get out of bed—besides, aren't we meant to start as we want to go on?"

"In bed?"

"No," Thomas says, tugging him closer, looping his leg around his, "or, not _only_ … just with you."

* * *

_31 December 1929_

_...and a sense of foreboding. Perhaps it's too much to hope that things will turn around just because we're entering a new -ies, but you know how I am with silver linings! Welcome to the Thirties say I, and how dearly do I wish that we could ring them in together. Maybe someday? Ten years—can we manage it do you think? I don't mind telling you I'd like to! But don't let my fancies scare you off if you've got doubts. We can take it a day at a time._

_And indeed I am,_

_Counting down the days till we meet again,_

_Richard_

_P.S. This letter took a turn by the end of it, but I'd be very interested to read your response to the first bit. . . tell me how you'd kiss me back, won't you please?_

* * *

"...but you've got to get back to the party, I suppose."

"I have, yes… I ought to've gone back already, actually, we've only got– er, nine minutes left, now– how's 1932 so far, by the way? I didn't ask."

"Thus far I've spent all twenty-one minutes of it on the telephone with you, so quite well, I'd say."

"You flatter me, Mr Ellis."

"Flattery's insincere, Mr Barrow; _this_ one calls flirting, but if you're opposed–"

"Flirt with me all you like… I do have to go now though."

"Well, then, before you hang up, since I can't be there to give you one in person…"

It's very silly, 'kissing' through the telephone… but it feels right all the same.

* * *

"The next _decade's_ not til next year, not technically."

"So you told me ten years ago, Mr Ellis," replies Richard, playful. He squeezes Thomas's hand, their fingers interlaced.

Some things—nicknames, smiles, touches—never get old, not truly. Or if they do they only get better for it.

Other things...

"And ten before that," Thomas teases. But he squeezes back.

"And ten before _that…_ "

"You never learn, do you?"

"Tough to teach an old dog new tricks."

"Blimey, if you thought you were old thirty years ago I can't think what you must make of yourself now– _mmph_ –"

And the clock on the wall strikes midnight at just the same time as Richard slips his other arm around his waist, tugs him as close to in-his-lap as he can be, and gives him a kiss. It's entirely unexpected but it wouldn't have been if he were paying any attention, so he can't complain.

He wasn't _going_ to complain, but if he was, he wouldn't have the right, that's all.

"We were going to miss it," Richard whispers as it ends, lips still near to his. Thomas can only smile—he's not going to be the one to pull away first, not this time. "It's bad luck to miss it, isn't it?"

"If you say it, it _must_ be–"

Richard kisses him again. Ancient tactic, that one. He's used it twice in the last minute; Thomas is not going to complain about that, neither.

The second he opens his eyes Richard touches their noses together and then sits back, letting go of him to reach for a glass of champagne. He hands it to Thomas before taking his own, holding it with the very same elegance as ever, like he spent his early years dining at-table instead of waiting at it.

"Happy new year."

"Happy new year," he replies.

They toast to it together.

And, whether Richard agrees on if it's the start of a proper decade or not, Thomas does have high hopes for 1960.

**Author's Note:**

> [on tumblr as @combeferre](https://combeferre.tumblr.com)


End file.
